Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: In-person: Harry / Gwen / Spidey
[Peter's face swam in front of him and Harry winced against the light like it burned. The world was a skipping record, and he felt high as a fucking kite in the worst way possible. It turned his stomach and blurred his mind, and he looked around the garage with glazed, unfocused eyes that gave no impression of actually seeing anything.
But he could hear everything, and Peter was speaking in the same low, gentle voice one would use when talking someone off a ledge. Harry swallowed and tried to focus again, his throat was dry and it felt like he'd drunk from a glass of razors. A sleepover. Sleep sounded like a good idea, Harry felt so exhausted and weak that he thought he might sleep for a year. He might sleep for the rest of his life, and that felt okay too. Harry smiled, and reached up to touch Peter's wavering face, like he thought he could make the room stop moving if he could just touch something and stabilize it. Stop moving, Peter.
Somehow, in that moment, Harry managed to connect a hand with Peter's, and it felt like every reassurance he ever needed that everything was going to be alright.] Yeah, a sleepover..
[But then they were talking about the serum, using words like analyze and dull. Whatever part of his brain that the serum had touched, it dug survivalist spurs in hard. Harry's pulse hammered in a body flush with fever, his shirt was already soaked in sweat just from a couple of minutes spent writhing on the floor. He tried to make sense of it, the sudden strength that hissed like the pressure from blown gaskets, it was like every part of him that had been hurting a moment ago now hurt so good. His dilated eyes took in everything, zoning in on Gwen when she knelt to pick up the syringe. Suddenly, irrationally, he felt like an animal in a trap.]
Put it down, Gwen.. [He warned her with a voice squeezed small.]